New: a novella
by Alex Mills
Summary: Only three were given the opportunity - the chance for eternal life. In 2012 a cryogenics facility was given permisison to effectively freeze three individuals with the hope that some day they could reanimate them and prove to the world that the process was safe. 1200 years later that hope became a reality when they were woken up. But this New World is different to the Old World...


NEW

a novella

by

Alex Mills

* * *

Miranda: How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!

Prospero: 'Tis new to thee.

William Shakespeare; The Tempest

* * *

PART ONE: NEW HORIZONS

"A man should look for what is, and not for what he thinks should be."

Albert Einstein

.

The noise of the courtroom died down instantly as the bailiff asked those present to be silent. The media were watching intensely, following the judge with their cameras making sure to keep him in focus and centred for those watching live from their homes. The select few members of the public who had managed to beat the rest of the crowd for a seat leant forward on their chairs, while those sitting at the company's table waited eagerly to know how people would spend the rest of their lives – would they die in the next 50 years, or would they be alive 500 years from now?

"Please be seated," the judge said, staring out into the crowded room where a sea of eyes looked back. As he sat down he let out a deep sigh and from the notes in front of him began to read:

"Ladies and gentlemen, I address this not only to everyone in this court, but those too who I know will be watching from other locations. I understand that this decision is one not to be taken lightly, and that no matter the decision, the outcome will nonetheless not please everyone. However, hard decisions such as these are the reason we have courts like ours today. On the topic of society, let us first consider the ramifications brought forward by the state. I accept that ethics, morality and human nature will all be tested should I allow the claim made by Mr Rockwell and his company. In truth, I agree that perhaps such things are not exactly what we should be exploring or celebrating at a time when our science is still only in its infancy. Nonetheless, as Mr Rockwell pointed out, the way forward has often been taken through risks. If risks had not been taken in the 18th and 19th century then many of the scientific and medical breakthroughs that we take for granted today would not have been discovered.

"Society, I feel, has not always felt comfortable in accepting large changes instantly. No matter what both sides argued over the last few months, conservatism is something which exists, no matter how liberal people claim to be. Liberalism exists also, but only to a limit which I have been convinced is holding us back in many ways – how can we move forward if we are always looking backwards? To this day I have taken much pride in considering myself to be a fair, reasonable and just person who has made decisions with the ultimate goal of benefiting life as we know it, and this case has most definitely tested those boundaries.

"As you have noticed, society is what this case comes down to: whether or not our society is ready for such a decision? Mr Rockwell's cryogenic facility has attempted to convince the court that they have the technology available to successfully and safely, and I say this crudely – 'freeze' – a human being with the intention of one day reanimating, or reawakening them. I accept the evidence they presented is impressive, and that the ability to do such work with amphibian species as well as human organs is a good indicator that perhaps such work will someday become a reality. However, the move from frogs to humans seems too wide a step, and I was not convinced by the evidence that the court should allow this cryonics facility to commercialise their operations when they were unable to offer any physical evidence, as opposed to theoretical evidence, on the issue of whether such practices can be completed safely on humans.

"As such, until there comes a time where it can be shown beyond reasonable doubt that such practices are safe for human participation, I have no option but to reject Mr Rockwell's claim to be allowed to open his company's facilities to the general public.

The courtroom exploded as everyone either applauded or complained at the decision which had been announced. Though a hammer could be heard asking for their silence it was not until the judge stood up and raised his voice that order was brought...

"The court asks those present for their silence until my final decision has been read... SILENCE... Now, despite my rejection of Mr Rockwell's request, I am willing to grant him and his company another option, should they wish to undertake it.

"Commercially, I cannot allow 'Cryonic-Futures' to enter into any endeavours that involve the cryogenic freezing process of live human beings, though they may continue to operate on the bodies of those deceased who have given testamentary consent for such to occur. Nonetheless, I am willing to allow them this: The court grants Mr Rockwell's company the permission to test their cryogenic process on no more than three consenting adults, who are volunteer test subjects. The court will interview and investigate these three subjects to confirm that they are not paying to be involved in the process, or involved with or connected to shareholders or any other investing company. Psychiatric, medical and other evaluations the court deems necessary will also be made compulsory.

"At a time when 'Cryonics-Futures' can successfully reanimate or reawaken one of their test subjects and prove to the court that the process has been successful and safe, the court shall re-examine this case, whenever it should be. Until such can be proved however, 'Cryonics-Futures' shall continue with the rules and restrictions that are currently in place, except for the exception which I have just granted.

"In my opinion, this situation is one that allows leeway for both parties. I accept that the state does not wish to allow cryonic work to operate commercially, and I accept Mr Rockwell's desire to begin scientific research which could potentially change the world as we know it. Life is something precious – it is the most valuable thing we have, and it is only natural to seek ways to extend it, or discover ways to do so. However, it is because life is so precious that I felt reluctant to allow the commercialisation of such undertakings, based on the evidence presented.

"Court is adjourned."

.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Max asked looking into his friend's face; a wide child-like grin looked back. Huxley and he were sitting in Max's lounge, each with a beer in their hands. Max was a large man, in height and build, with thick strong hands and longish black hair that made him look like he belonged on a football field, rather than the science lab that was his second home. "This is serious business here; I mean we barely know whether any of the stuff they claim they can one day do is viable, you know?"

"Yeah, I know, but Max, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. Out of the thousands of applications I was chosen. Can you imagine the possibilities?"

"Can you? What if it doesn't work?"

"What if it does?"

Huxley had recently received news that he had become one of the successful candidates for a new trial involving cryogenics. He had applied almost a year ago, and the tests and application forms and interviews had seemed to go on forever, yet here he was. After all these months of being called back again and again, he had finally made it.

"So," Max began, "talk me through this in a nutshell, ok?"

"Right, yeah ok, sure thing: So next month I'll arrive and they'll begin by removing all the hair on my body. I'll then be given some injections which will put me to sleep. After that they prepare you for the freezing process, so first they'll give me these chemicals which go into the bloodstream and protect your cells from the liquid nitrogen. See what happens is that the temperature is so cold that it starts to destroy cells, so these chemicals act like a kind of anti-freeze for the blood. Then they'll attach these protective glasses to my eyes, seal up the major apertures in my body and then put me on ice to lower my temperature and heartbeat. Once my heart is down to a nice slow level I'll be put into this giant coffin-looking thing of liquid nitrogen which will store me at something like 200 degrees below freezing point. From there I'll be monitored daily and when science allows it I'll be brought. And I guess that is it, in your nutshell."

"Jesus fucking Christ..."

"What?"

"I can't believe you're doing this, pal."

"You're a scientist, you should be happy – this could be a huge breakthrough for the world. And hey, what about me – if I'm going to be selfish about it I'm glad. Imagine the things that the future is going to have which I'm going to be able to see when I wake up."

"If you wake up... Hux, this is all just theory, the chances of success are small and even then you could wake up with serious brain damage and not even get to experience this 'amazing future' you seem so keen to get to."

"But the chance is there, isn't it? The chance is there."

"What even possessed you to sign up for this anyway?"

"Honestly; I'm afraid of death. It terrifies me. Every day I wake up and think, wow, I'm nearly halfway through my life already, and it's scary stuff. I wanna be around to see everything and do everything and experience everything. There's nothing holding me back – I've got no kids, wife or family, so why not? What have I got to lose, eh? This is the biggest cure for death. I get to go away and come back at a time when death is something of the past. If there is no death, there is no fear. Don't you understand?"

"And what if you die in the process?"

"Better to take the chance than leave it. Would I rather live in this world where death is waiting for me, or would I rather take a risk, where the payout is the ultimate prize – something money can't buy. This is something I need to do, it isn't a case of want, it's a need. I need to live forever Max. I need it."

"So say you do make it, what then? What if the future is a horror show? What if things are so unrecognisable that living isn't worth it? Christ Huxley, here you are, eagerly waiting to go into the future as if it will solve all your problems because it is already such an amazing place. Why can't you live for the future you have now instead of the one you are risking everything for?"

"Because to compare the two is like comparing heaven and hell, Max."

"Oh please! You'll become a scientific experiment for the rest of your life. If you ever wake up you'll be gawked at and poked and prodded and you'll never be able to ever live a normal life again. Your home will be a science lab forever. Tell me, what will be the point?"

"The point is I'll be alive! Look at a Death Row prisoner. Imagine it, living in a cell, knowing that your death is on the way and there is nothing you can possibly do to stop it. Being there would be the worst punishment, because you know you're going to die, but you don't know when. That's why they keep them there for so long, to scare them and drive them insane and punish them without having to do anything. Lock a man up and tell him you are going to come and kill him soon, will eventually kill him from the inside out. That man would rather live forever in a cage than die. And that is it – I am like the prisoner."

"You're the prisoner?"

"This world, this society is my Death Row, and all I can do is wait for death to come, but I have no idea when this is going to happen – the uncertainty is what kills me slowly from the inside. However, now I've been given an opportunity to escape, and though the risks are huge, there is still a chance. If you were to offer a Death Row prisoner an escape which was ten times riskier than mine, you can bet they would all take it. Why? Because they can either die waiting, or they can die in the quest for life."

"But death is inevitable. Why should we be afraid of something which is a natural part of human life? It makes no sense. It's going to happen to us all, whether you are on Death Row or not. You can't escape it."

"Ah," Huxley burst out. "There you are wrong! Up until now death has been impossible to escape. But there is a solution, and I have it. Society has been selling anti-aging medicine for years – people don't want to die, and now science is allowing us that luxury. Imagine a world where there is no death and no fear, just pure existence – that is what I want, and that my friend, is what I am going to get."

Huxley leaned back on the sofa satisfied. Though they disagreed, they continued to talk well into the night about the future and the endless possibilities which lay in-store for Huxley. By the time Huxley left it was well into the early morning and he was quite drunk when he finally stumbled into his bed. Lying back on the pillow he looked up into the darkness, and though his head was spinning due to the alcohol, his mind was clear as he imagined how his life was about to change forever.

.

The apartment was a rental so there was no point in worrying about that. As of now the company would take on the lease until it ended in March and all his items and belongings would be packed up and stored for when he woke up again. There was nothing to do but wait until Monday's procedure – it was Friday. Huxley began his day, pacing through the apartment wondering how he would spend his last weekend. He had emptied out his bank account and sold anything that was worth the slightest amount of money. The company was going to provide everything for him at the other side.

So now a large amount of cash lay idle on his kitchen table waiting for him to pick it up and spend it as in many ways there would be no tomorrow. But what could he buy? What was there left to get? He would be leaving soon, and if this was to be his last weekend he was going to make sure he did things in style - not go out and randomly donate it to a charity which would probably just waste it all anyway. He wouldn't be seeing Max until Sunday, as he had been called away to a funeral up north; some distant cousin or other; a clear reminder of why Huxley would be going through with his opportunity.

Aside from Max, Huxley did not have any real friends. As a writer he lived a very lonely existence where the people he met were generally those whom he was interviewing for information regarding one of his latest books. He was moderately well known and successful, yet due to privacy concerns no media had been given details about he or the two other participants in the cryogenic experiment, and so they and his fans would just assume he had disappeared once they discovered there were no more books arriving on shelves. And who could blame them for thinking such – it wasn't like he had any family for them to contact. Huxley's parents had both been only children, as had he, and they had died together in a car crash several years ago.

As for relationships, Huxley's good looks and charm ensured he was never short of a female companion, however he had no desires to ever form a bond with the women he so regularly brought home. When he was out socialising he became largely extroverted, and when he was at home he was introverted. He understood the need for human contact, yet he did not mind his own company if that was all on offer. He liked his space and was largely a creature of habit, yet at the same time he enjoyed being with people and enjoying their company, using them until he had satisfied the desire to be near someone for a few hours before coming up with an excuse to go home for some reason or another. Nevertheless, as this was potentially his last weekend he had no desires whatsoever to be by himself and so counting out the money he had, he made plans for the final few days he had left.

Since he was being effectively frozen he was limited to the things he was allowed to digest, but he had been assured that any alcohol consumption shouldn't be any problem at all. Therefore the first stop he made was the liquor store to purchase the most expensive bottles he could find. Vodka, whiskey, absinthe – he bought it all. From there he returned home, made some phone-calls, and took a long relaxing hot bath until the door rang with his order from earlier. As he opened the door he greeted the three beautiful women politely, offering to take their coats and pour them a drink of whatever they so desired.

By the time Sunday arrived Huxley was refreshed, relaxed and in high spirits as the same three girls who had arrived on Friday night departed; the three of them slightly teary-eyed after realising that this cancer-ridden man would be travelling to Oregon the next day to be euthanized. They had enjoyed their weekend with this polite and generous person, who had made love to them all like it was truly the last time he would ever feel the touch of a woman again. Huxley had told them this on the Friday, and to his advantage their sympathy had led to him having one of the greatest experiences of his life... yet. Of course when he told Max of this on the Sunday night his actions were instantly condoned as being highly narcissistic, yet he agreed that given what Huxley was about to go through, he might as well have spent the night in the way that he had.

"So this is it, huh?" Max began, "I suppose it all starts now for you..."

.

The plane trip to Phoenix did not take long, and by midday Huxley was already at the company's facility where he was greeted pleasantly by a small group of staff members, doctors and scientists, as well as the head of the company, George Rockwell. They then ran him through a step by step explanation of the entire process from beginning to end. As they explained Huxley became increasingly nervous, but he knew deep down that this was still the right thing for him to do.

"What about the others, are they here now?"

"Ah the other patients you mean?" One of the scientists asked, "no, see what we have done is divided you all up. They will be stored next week and the week after. This allows us to give each subject our complete and full attention, as well as allow us to monitor you extensively throughout the beginning stages of the process."

"So I have your full attention."

"Exactly," Rockwell cut in. "This here is perhaps one of the most important scientific experiments ever performed. There is no room for errors, so we need to have our eyes all in the same direction, towards our ultimate goal."

"And what is that?" Huxley asked.

"Well that's simple, isn't it – the future. Our goal is the future."

Though his speech sounded as though he was a salesman in a car yard, Huxley still thought Rockwell genuinely believed in the work that they were about to carry out, and so when he reassured him, giving him his word that everything would be alright, Huxley couldn't help but believe the man completely.

After their talk Huxley was taken to a room where his hair was cut and removed leaving him appear as a completely empty human shell. Blood samples were taken and stored, and he was then hoisted onto a hospital bed to be prepared for surgery.

When Huxley was wheeled into the next room an anaesthesiologist sat next to his head near the heart monitor which had recently been placed and set up. In the corner of the room stood several scientists with clip boards, two court appointed lawyers and a member of what looked to Huxley like the FBI, though he could not be sure. On the other side of the room large monstrous instruments stood ready and waiting for the doctors to begin their work.

"Are you ready Mr Huxley?" The head surgeon spoke calmly.

"Yes," he stammered back in reply. "Let's do this."

A mask was placed over his mouth and he breathed in deeply for he was beginning to panic now and was sure he would begin to hyperventilate right there and then. But the solution he was inhaling soothed him, and his breathing slowed. He was told to count down from ten.

"Ten." He saw several men eagerly looking at the machine connected to his heart rate. "Nine."

"Vitals are all good; heart is slowing, nearly there." Huxley could hear the voice, though he could not determine who spoke.

"Eight." Huxley's eyes were beginning to get very heavy now and he was struggling to stay awake. He remembered seeing similar people in films being made to repeat the same ten numbers and it was only now that he fully realised how difficult it was. With the last remaining ounce of his consciousness, Huxley said goodbye to the world and society as he knew it with one simple word: "Seven..."

* * *

PART TWO: NEW WORLD ORDER

"All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome."

George Orwell

.

There was nothing strange or different about the room, though there ought to have been. It was an average size with an average décor which made it feel as though someone had attempted to make it seem comfortable and neutral, although the effect instead created something seemingly artificial. There was a plastic plant in the western corner next to the window; it was lucky to be fake as the windows had the blinds down and angled so only a small amount of light could filter in, all of which missed the plant completely. Opposite, on the other side of the room was a desk with various paperwork and charts and diagrams. Beside it, the large heavy door to the room was sealed from the outside world; no air, noise or smell could get through. Instead there was a private ventilation and air conditioning unit that had been specially installed.

The only noise which could be heard was the regular 'beep' of the monitor Huxley was connected to. He lay silent in the bed with a soft blanket that came up to his waist where his arms lay flat at their sides. The induced coma had lasted nearly four months now, and as he had passed all tests relating to the reanimation process, he would soon be woken by the scientist who was about to walk into the room.

The man opened the door and entered alone; there was no point in bringing a large group of people for it would only increase the risk of nervousness and shock in his patient. Inside he checked the machine's monitor, wrote down some figures, and proceeded to inject chemicals into the intravenous drip currently in Huxley's arm. After a minute Huxley's eyes began to flutter as he regained consciousness. The scientist unhooked the breathing machine from him so that he could do such by himself. Huxley was awake, and he had survived.

"Good morning. My name is Alex, it's very nice to meet you," the man said in a strong and confident voice. "Please don't try to speak, the muscles in your throat are still adapting to not being used for a good while, but don't worry, we've been keeping an eye on you and the stimulants should begin working in the next few days. Please, would you mind just giving me a solid blink if you understand me so far?"

Huxley blinked. He was alive. He had survived.

"Good. Now." The man took a seat beside the bed. "I don't want you to be frightened, alright. I know that these sorts of things are not what you want to hear after just waking up, but, well... trust me, it is for the best that I tell you right now – you will understand later. May I continue?"

Huxley blinked. He was alive. He had survived.

"Thank you. Now the next thing you should know is that as you have been stored in cryogenic material for many years, your body has become quite rigid. As such, for the last four months we have brought you out and have been monitoring you while placing you in an induced coma. Our people here have been able to stimulate your legs and arms, and over the next few days you should begin to regain feeling in these parts. As your brain signals have also been dormant, you may suffer from some minor motor-control issues, but that is nothing we here can't help you with. Following all this?"

Huxley blinked. He was alive. He had survived.

"Excellent. I imagine there are many questions which you would like answered, but for now please just know that you are completely safe and healthy, and once you regain your strength and speech, the knowledge and information you desire will be yours completely. So please, just remain relaxed and calm and don't worry about a thing – we have it covered. Alright?"

Huxley blinked. He was alive. He had survived.

.

Over the next week Huxley began to feel his legs again, then his arms, and soon his back and shoulders and last of all the top of his head. During this time he also started to make strange muffled sounds with his voice, and although he knew what he wanted to express, what emerged was something much different. However, the medicine he received daily seemed to help his body remember what it was doing and by the end of the week he had successfully taken his first step and walked to the window unassisted, while uttering the word 'hello'.

His doctor, or the scientist, or whoever he was that had met him when he first woke, revisited him several times a day to perform tests and take readings from the machines he was set up on. As well, there was a particularly attractive woman who brought Huxley his food three times a day. Though he tried to smile and start up a conversation with her, each attempt only ever left him with an empty glance as though she was very far away. These two people were the only ones he had met in the entire week, and now, as Alex returned to finally give him some answers, Huxley was met by a new face.

She was young and pretty, really rather beautiful in fact, but there was also something else about her, Huxley thought. She had dark brown hair which fell to her shoulders, a perfect complexion; standing at average height with a slender build. She was also very different to other woman Huxley had met before... very different. She walked, although not in a normal way but more graceful, as though every step was perfectly taken – the same went for her posture and all movements in fact – they all seemed incredibly foreign to Huxley as his eyes followed this mysterious woman and Alex into the room and onto the two seats beside his bed.

"Huxley, I would like to introduce you to Elizabeth here. She will be the one answering your questions today, not me. I'm afraid she is much more qualified at this sort of thing than I am."

Huxley shook her hand – it felt normal in his grip, and yet there was still something which was not correct.

"So, I will leave you two. I know there is a lot to talk about. Good luck Huxley."

"Thank you," he replied with a faint smile as Alex left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

There was a brief silence as the two looked at each other, neither one of them knowing where to begin. Speechless, Huxley attempted to mumble something out, however his companion had now decided to take the lead:

"I think it's best to start at the beginning then, don't you?"

"Alright then, where would the beginning be?"

"Well how about the year?"

"The year..." Huxley had completely forgotten about this, and not once had he even thought to ask. How long had he been asleep for – how many years had he passed by silently? "Yes, please..."

"You have been asleep 1204 years, making it 3216."

"My god..."

"I would also, at this point like to congratulate you."

"For what?"

"Well, you officially hold the record for the oldest human male in existence."

"My god... what about the others? The two others with me? I never met them, did they make it?"

"Yes and no. Do you remember when Dr. Alexander woke you up, and he explained that despite you only just regaining conscious, he had to give you a brief explanation of what was going on?"

"Yes, about how I couldn't feel anything."

"Exactly. Well, patient 2 – a Mr Oliver, did not do so well. You see, when we woke him, we thought it would be best to just let him regain his senses at his own speed. Unfortunately, when he realised he was alive yet could not feel his entire body, nor had anyone explained to him why, he suffered a major cardiac arrest."

"A heart attack?"

"That's right."

"But it's been 1200 years, your technology – surely you can easily fix such a thing!"

"There have been many developments, and as we continue our discussions, it will become clear to you that medicine has lost its priority in our society. But now, I'm getting ahead of myself - I haven't even told you who I am."

"Another scientist?"

"Oh no, I'm a history professional."

"A what? What kind of history?"

"Well, yours of course. I have been brought here to bring you up-to-date with your new world."

"Alright then," he replied cautiously. "What about the other patient, did they make it?"

"Oh yes, she did quite well. We woke her up from her coma about two weeks before you actually. She is doing well; as are you I might add."

"Thank you. Alright, so let's get to it – what the hell has happened in the last 1200 years? I see we still look human, so obviously no major evolutionary changes. I can understand your language well enough, clothes, dialect, even this room. So far the only evidence anything has changed is that I'm alive and well."

"You are a keen observer, but perhaps not so keen. Yes, our language has stayed the same; in fact there is only one language. As time progressed after you left, English became much more heavily relied on. Businesses began expanding even more rapidly; the Western world began inventing renewable energy leaving behind their reliance of oil. There were of course, large purges of many of what you would refer to as 'developing countries'."

"Purges?"

"Oh, not in the sense that you know the word, no. You see, eventually nations realised that bordering their people together and stopping them travelling was not working, and so once notions of international travel were done away with there were large purges of developing countries – people simply left. There were vast deserts of empty land, just left to itself."

"But where did they all go?"

"Oh, they went wherever they wanted to. Many of those from what you called 'Africa' went north into Europe, while the Asian nations went south into countries like Australia and New Zealand. Of course, America became overrun at first, until people realised that it was no longer the biggest, strongest nation anymore, and that there were other places to see and experience."

"How many people are there today?"

"There are about 15 billion."

"That number seems rather small. If what you said is correct, then shouldn't there have been huge population spikes?"

"Absolutely, there was. As the borders came down there was an explosion in numbers. The highest it reached at one point was 60 billion in 2328."

"And what changed?"

"Life, Mr. Huxley. Life changed."

.

Restlessness began to sink in deep as Julia found herself spending the majority of her days confined to her room, only being able to look out of the window at the view below. There wasn't a lot to see, aside from the courtyard of grass and the building which seemed identical to the one she was in across the way. Despite the path which ran along the side of the fountain in the middle and the numerous benches, Julia had not yet seen a single person take to the path or use the seats. She saw no one in the windows of the opposite building, nor did she ever hear the sounds of anyone else aside from the morning singing of the birds. The birds reminded her that she was awake in this new world she now had to call home, and she was grateful that they had made it as she herself had.

It wasn't as though she was confined to the room in any way; however her present state seemed to bring with it a minor sense of agoraphobia. As of now the only people who had been in to see her were the doctor, Alex, the strange aloof woman who brought her food and clothes, and Elizabeth, whom she was not fond of due to her condescension. Aside from these three individuals and the birds outside there was no proof that any other world even existed, aside from the one she had been told about – it was all simply theory at this point. This was the way she preferred things at the moment though, and to open that door and wander out, as she had been encouraged to do, seemed far beyond her capabilities.

There was of course the new information that a second original patient, a man, had just been successfully woken. This raised Julia's spirits greatly, as when she heard one other had died during reanimation a wave of loneliness took over. Though she was alive, after speaking with Elizabeth for many hours she did not feel comfortable taking on this new world without someone else who she could share her reactions and experiences of the new with. Fear was beginning to take in as the information she had recently received began to digest into her consciousness, and she was unsure how to cope with the large changes awaiting her.

Life wasn't bad though, on the contrary things seemed to have taken such a wonderful direction over the last millennium. Julia's world was long gone, and so be it. Though she would miss some things, what she had been told though frightening in many ways was also quite liberating at the same time. Elizabeth said that after a few more months of reintegration that tests would begin on her transferral. Julia had spent hours in front of the mirror, arguing with her consciousness over what she would like changed, tweaked, removed, altered and improved. The choice was almost too much, and she had lost much sleep over her arguments. This of course did not matter, as her days were not exactly what one would call tiring to any extent.

_Perhaps_, she thought_, perhaps just a small walk_. This was a debate that was played on a regular basis, however a new found confidence in the knowledge that somewhere in the building, there was someone who she could share an old culture with, while revelling in the new one they were about to become a part of. _Just a small walk_. One step led to two, which led to three. Julia's hand was on the doorknob, and for a split second before she turned it a thought flashed though her mind; _what if it doesn't open?_ But it did.

.

"Life, Mr. Huxley. Life changed."

"I'm sorry?"

"You said before, as far as you could tell, things had not changed much at all, did you not."

"Well I mean look at things..."

"Yes, I know. The room was designed especially in this way, as were the clothes that you, I and Dr. Alexander have been wearing. Things have greatly changed – you just don't know it yet."

"And are you going to tell me or what? What are you all trying to protect me from?"

"It's rather overwhelming – I suppose they just didn't want to frighten you."

"Well, considering I'm 1200 years into the future, let me know, alright?"

"The woman, the one who has been bringing you food. Tell me about her?"

"What?"

"Tell me about the woman. I know you think there is something strange about her, tell me?"

"Well, she was kind of cold I guess."

"Go on."

Huxley began to lose his patience, "Look! Please don't play these games, alright, just tell me what is going on."

"Ok, ok. The woman you saw was what we call, a canvas."

"A canvas? What does that mean?"

"Do you remember what a canvas was?"

"It's what an artist paints on, obviously. What does that mean?"

"She was an empty, a blank: she was a canvas."

"I'm sorry," Huxley apologised. "I really don't have any idea what you are talking about."

"No, I though not," she laughed as though she was amused about something. "Alright, let me try to explain this to you as best I can. Let me explain to you the biggest development of mankind."

"When you went away, society was in a state of denial over the most natural of all human experiences; the age process. No matter where anyone looked there were constant images of products which made claims to make those who used them look and feel younger. These were billion dollar companies we are talking about, because they were selling something that was simply not available – the ability to slow things down.

"As the years went on, the surgeries became more complex, the products became stronger, and the fear remained. Life-spans became longer of course, but it wasn't enough. And then something incredible happened, about one generation after yours. Scientists discovered a way to manipulate the genetic code within humans. Now normally the genes worked in a linear way – start to finish, young to old and so on. However, with the manipulation the genes were taught how to reverse, and so they could move in a state of flux depending on the body's reaction. If they sensed a part of the body was getting weak, the genes could reverse in direction and that part would become stronger.

"Early testing began with basic animals, and eventually the genes were made to recognise when the body was in a state of perfection, so that any more movement forward would be a downgrade, as would any move backwards. As testing went on animals became less helpful though, as their life-spans were significantly shorter and getting results was proving to be difficult. And so the first human testing began.

"Subjects were taken from several stages in their development, mainly those shortly after birth, those in pubescent years, young adults, the middle-aged, and finally the elderly. Those who were under 27-30 years of age showed little results at first; however those above achieved phenomenal accomplishments. Elderly patients showed signs of brain function speed and mobility returning gradually, including those with both minor and major onsets of diseases such as Alzheimer's and dementia. Physically their bone structure became stronger, their hair became fuller and their skin began to tighten. In one year, those who started the test at 70 showed signs of only being 50. After another year they were down to around 27.

"It seemed that the genetic code chose approximately 27 as the target age for the bodies it inhabited, and so once patients reached such the genes simply stopped their reversal and kept the body in a state of flux. Those who had started the tests younger, aged appropriately, however once they reached the target age the process halted and they remained there. Despite such radical results, there were of course some set-backs.

"With the reawakening of the genes in patients, occasionally this resulted in the reawakening of various cancerous cells within some patients. Unfortunately these cells learnt from the healthy genes, and so new strains of cancer began to spread. Some patients passed away, though others managed to fight their way through. It was another 60 or so years later before a proper cure could be obtained, and a safer version of the modified gene which would keep the cancer cells dormant, was developed. At this point the drug was proved safe, and was made available to the public.

"There are almost no words to describe the panic and obsession which followed in the wake of such a release. Never before had there been such a rush and such a demand. The company running the operation exploded on the share-market, one share alone was then worth around 30 million dollars. Of course, the treatment was not cheap at first and so only the elite had access to it, however as years went on new ways to reduce costs meant that mass production could occur, and so by 2400 the treatment was as commonplace as any other vaccination had been in your lifetime..."

.

The corridor was not as Julia expected it would be. Her room resembled that of a hospital, yet the corridor appeared as though it belonged in an office building. There was nothing futuristic or modern about this place, though she had been told that the building was specifically designed for her and the others' accustomisation to the new world.

The hall was long, but wide. There were doors to offices and rooms to her left, and on her right was an exact mirror image. The lights above kept the area well lit, and there was a cool breeze coming from some invisible air-conditioning unit somewhere around her. Slowly she began to walk, waiting and wondering who was to be the first person she would meet. She met no one, and by the time she made it to the end of the building, decided to turn left.

Each room resembled the one next to it; there were no discernible features about any of them which made them stand out among the rest. However the sound of television broke her concentration of the repetition, instead focusing her around several bends and turns until she came to what could only be described as some sort of meeting or common room. It was large, with full windows along the entire right side. The floor was hard wood, and in one corner was a makeshift kitchen and sink with a stack of dirty cups waiting to be washed. As well as this there was a large table with various strange looking papers on it, several comfortable lounge chairs and a large television which was playing what looked like football. _Strange_, Julia thought to herself, _1200 years into the future and this room would be considered dated in my own time. _

"It's a fucking joke is what it is!" Julia jumped as she heard this strong voice boom from around the corner. Instinctively she ran towards the television which so happened to have a cupboard nearby. Frantically she opened the door and stood inside next to the brooms and cleaning products, closing the door so that she could see through the small split of seam. Why she was hiding she did not know; it just came to her naturally. She was not a prisoner, nor was she afraid. Perhaps it was the fact that Julia had not had contact with another person outside of her bedroom yet – she was nervous still about human interactions.

Presently two men strode into the room wearing clothes not dissimilar to what Alex had worn when he made his routine checks on Julia's health. One of them sat down at the table while the other made his way to the sink, turning on one of the kettles.

"Absolutely ridiculous it is. An entire floor! Who do they think we are? We aren't pioneers for christsake! Not one piece of technology or material permitted for an entire floor that is post what? 2000? 2010?"

"I think it is something like 2012," the other spoke back. "But I know what you mean – it's a pain."

"A pain? Look at me – I am actually having to boil water myself to make a cup of coffee. Coffee! It's crazy!"

"Hahaha funny isn't it though, seeing how these people lived, what they put up with. How did they get by at all?"

"Fucking prehistoric is what it is."

"Well they did allow us a canvas I suppose."

"Yeah, one. One canvas for an entire floor – she hasn't even got around to cleaning dishes. Dishes! When was the last time you saw a dirty cup lying around like this? It's as if they expect us to live like animals and actually do things for ourselves."

"I know, you don't have to convince me. But hey, it's only one shift three times a week."

"Yeah, you're right, but still. Why can't we have a decent desystemiser, or even just a simple mobile unit? I mean if any of these newbies saw them they wouldn't know what they were anyway, would they? What is Alexander so afraid of? He has us out here on this bloody island, living in these horrible looking buildings to try and get these lot up to scratch. I know it is only one floor, and yes the rest of the units are proper equipped... I just hate coming here is all."

"It does bring you down, but no one is forcing you to do anything. If you don't like it, leave."

"I'm not leaving. I have too much investing in this work to just go now. I'm not complaining about the project, I'm just complaining about the conditions is all. Ah well, I suppose they can't have a canvas for everything can they?"

The two men laughed as the Loud One brought two cups over to the table and sat down. Julia remained still and silent; she had decided that this was not the time to make friends.

"Where is that canvas anyway?" the Loud One spoke looking out to the hallway.

"I'm not sure, she should be finishing the rounds in the next few minutes, then I'm guessing she will come in here for refuelling."

"Good. Good, I feel like I could use a release. How bout you?"

"Yeah, why not! She is a looker which is nice. Thoughtful they only use the attractive ones isn't it?"

"Well put us on a floor with nothing more complicated than our own bodies for four hours – we need something to play with to pass the time after all! All work, no fuck makes life... well I guess it would compare to this." The man swung his arms around whilst pointing to the room he was in. "Speaking of which, how the hell do you turn off that bloody machine!?" He pointed to the television.

"I don't know. Wait for the canvas – they're programmed for that."

"Urgh – but that noise is horrible. They call that a sport... what a fucking joke... what a society..."

.

"Society was not satisfied." Elizabeth continued. "The age process had been eliminated, people now had the potential to live centuries – but it was not enough. Death remained. You see, age was only one way to die, for there still existed various diseases that the genes could not fight off no matter the developments. The pandemics of your lifetime, such as AIDS and cancer had long gone, and such had been replaced with much stronger and hostile illnesses. Even obesity remained as it did in the 21st century. Furthermore, there were also the man-made disasters; crime, war, vehicle and transportation accidents etc. People were still dying, and they were afraid to even leave their home.

"As fear spread, the company decided to investigate into a new fieldwork, and so research into robotics began. Work was slow, for initial projects included studies on the human brain – the greatest piece of equipment of all. There were tests on electrical signals, parts of the brain where information was stored and other complex analyses. Over the next 130 years little information was given to the world at large, except that the company was working on something very large. In fact it was all kept so secret that I can't even give you any information about this time.

"In 2780 the company revealed to the world what they had accomplished. They had created the first artificial human brain, capable of having information transferred to it from another source, i.e. another human brain. The patients they used had successfully transferred their personality into this new technology. Of course, people did not understand why they would want to download their minds into a computer, until surprisingly the company informed them that there was one other development. Along with this computerised human brain, they had managed to connect this with a computerised human body – a piece of revolutionary robotics, completely lifelike in every sense of the word.

"Humans could now, effectively download themselves into a machine and live forever, with the same thoughts, knowledge and information they had before. The machines were virtually indestructible, and in the case of such happening most people had what is known as 'downloadable reserves' at home. Generally once a year people would go to a technician, where their brain would be copied of the information it had at that time and stored on record, so that if anything was to happen to their equipment, a 'mind chip' would be on reserve. I understand this all sounds incredibly strange to you, but please let me continue on.

"With this new development the human race changed overnight. Due to the large expenses involved it was again only available to those who could afford it. However by this time most people had become quite wealthy as the ability to stop aging led to longer work and income possibilities. Poverty had long disappeared. At this point the population was around 20 billion. You see with the developments that had occurred, the need and want for families had depleted. Contraceptive measures were much more advanced and so the population had begun to lower accordingly. By 3000, around 95% of people had transferred themselves into robotics.

"To this day we are still unsure why 5% chose not to upgrade, for upon changing it is almost impossible for patients to tell that anything is different. Feelings of touch remain, however there is no longer the possibility of pain and discomfort. Taste remains; however there are no feelings of hunger or dehydration, food and drink is no longer needed at all for sustenance. Smell remains, yet odours that result in extreme disgust do not register any longer. And finally sight and hearing remain, both being developed to a near perfection point. Along with this, beauty was improved. The robotics could be made to look like a person's original image, or they could be developed by themselves. If a person wanted to be taller, with darker skin and a certain type of nose, it was possible. A person could look any way they wanted to – male or female, it no longer mattered because it was up to the creator; perfection became possible. In fact, this is what was on offer; perfection."

.

From Julia's vantage point she saw as the woman who regularly brought her food walked through the door at that very point, taking no notice of the two men at the table whose eyes followed her from the door to the refrigerator. With cold precision she opened the door and took out a banana and what looked like some sort of smoothie. From there she walked over to the lounge chair, sat, and ate. It was remarkable, Julia noticed, just how robotic her motions were. Her eyes were not even looking at what she was doing, and her body seemed to work at clockwork; five chews, swallow, bite, five chews, swallow bite etc.

"I'll wait until it's refuelled," Loud One said. "Go and close that door would you? I hate it when people disturb you, especially when they see you've been reduced to associate with a canvas." He spat the last word out as though it was something filthy, yet the woman continued to eat as though she had not heard a word despite the obvious fact that the words spoken were directly aimed at her.

Julia knew what the woman was – Elizabeth had told her. Nothing could quite prepare her for what was about to happen next though. No warning could have in any circumstance.

"Canvas!" Loud One spoke as Quiet One closed the door.

"Yes," she replied, turning to face him while remaining seated.

"Have you finished refuelling?"

"I will be finished in approximately one more minute."

"Good. When you have finished come over here to me."

"Of course." The woman turned back and continued to eat; there was no change or flicker in her voice, nor hesitation in the mannerisms she used while finishing her meal. When she did she simply stood, walked to the rubbish bin to dispose of her banana skin, placed her empty drink container on the kitchen bench and walked directly in front of Loud One. "How may I help?" She asked politely, looking down at him. His legs were spread apart and he turned so that she stood between them. Quiet One sniggered.

"What do you think, should I have some fun with her?"

"Sure why not."

"Canvas, get down on your knees." The woman knelt down. "Tell me your functions."

"I am fully functionable in every manner required of me," she stated calmly.

"Open your mouth." Loud One took his hand and began to pretend to inspect the woman's teeth. His fingers went deep inside and he purposefully moved them in and around her teeth as he did so while his friend sat by and laughed. Julia remained silent. "It seems adequate enough. Stand turn around and bend over, canvas." She did as she was asked.

Julia knew what she was, but this was not what she had been expecting when Elizabeth had talked to her only days ago. Right then, all she wanted to do was rush out of that cupboard and run back to her room and into her bed; but she couldn't. All she could do was watch on helplessly.

Loud One took his time. He had his fun, taunting the lifeless woman who did not resist, argue or complain at the various things he required of her. What seemed like hours to Julia past, until finally he and Quiet One had, as they said "released themselves".

"Canvas, clean yourself out! When you are finished put your clothes back on and get back to work. Do not recall your time or actions performed upon your initial entry and exit within this room from this afternoon. Do you understand?"

The naked woman lay spread across the table with her head to one side. "Yes, I understand." She then got up and made her way to the sink, ignoring both Loud One and Quiet One as they left the room together.

Julia's hand slowly came down from across her mouth and a small pool of water – her tears – fell softly to the floor. Wiping her eyes and sniffing hard she opened the door to her hiding place and walked over to the woman cleaning herself.

"Hi," Julia said. "Are you alright?"

The woman turned to Julia, seemingly unaware that she still had no clothing on. "Hello. I am very well thank you. May I help you with anything?"

"No... thank you. I'll be going back to my room now..." Julia walked forward and the woman turned back to the sink and the cloth in her hand. As Julia passed the table she bent down and picked up the woman's uniform from the floor and placed it on the table for her. Turning, she looked back to see whether or not her presence had at all impacted on this unfortunate worker; it did not. The woman had barely noticed a thing.

.

"Let me now backtrack slightly. Earlier I mentioned the idea of a canvas to you, let me go on from here. During the initial transformations from human bodies into robotics, the company found one large problem; what should happen to the body left behind? Millions began to pile up, and so it was decided to store them in cryogenic facilities such as the one you have been in.

"Now that most of the population were effectively immortal and perfect, they began to grow tired of work. Everyone felt that if they were to be perfect, so should life, which should not be spent working to earn money when nothing was no longer needed. It was a fair argument, though the government at the time knew that work could not just simply stop. Businesses needed to continue, in every part of life from the high executive to the low street sweeper. And so they turned to the company for help.

"It was here that the company took the empty bodies out of cryogenics and set them up for use. Over the next 100 years there was a huge leap forward, where these empty shells, or "canvases" as we call them, were programmed to perform the tasks that society no longer wanted to do. Those who had transferred into robotic bodies were removed from their place of work and swapped with a canvas that was programmed to do only the basic of skills; serve in the task needed to be done.

"This was it; this was the age of perfection. The canvases ran society, unaware as to what they were doing. They worked, slept, ate and drank – all on autopilot. They took orders, and simply did what was required, and this led to results undreamed of by all. Humans were suddenly allowed anything they wanted, because there was no point in any notion of currency anymore, for there was no longer the need to pay for workers. If a person went into a shop and wanted a piece of clothing, they could have it. If they wanted to build a home to their own specifications, it was theirs – the building work was done for them by a team of canvases. There are no questions asked – a canvas simply does what it is asked, when it is asked."

.

Julia had not met anyone else on her journey back to her bedroom, nor had she noticed any difficulty in finding her way. Like the woman she had just witnessed be 'used', she seemed to float on autopilot after leaving until suddenly she noticed that she had somehow made it into her bed and was now curled up under her blanket. She wept.

Prior to that moment, Julia had never considered herself a weak woman. In her time she had been strong and independent, and at times would have gone so far as to call herself feministic, though not to any extreme state. But now... now she had been broken. The image of those men doing what they did was horrifying, but perhaps not as horrifying as the fact that there was no argument at all. The woman simply did what she was told not matter what. _Is this how life – human life – is valued today? She_ thought.

Julia jumped suddenly as a small bird outside began to sing from her window ledge. She came out from under her hiding place and lay on her side fixated at the small creature. Its wings flapped and shuddered against the breeze, but it continued to 'cheep' along until other birds caught its attention and it flew away with them. Julia was again alone.

An hour later the woman entered Julia's room with a tray of food. Placing it beside her bed she quietly asked "is there anything you need?" Julia said she did not and watched as the woman left; she was limping at the knee. _What have I done_? Julia asked herself. _Where am I_?

.

"This is an age, Huxley, where if a person wants something, it is theirs. There is no longer any crime, poverty, disease or pain. No sadness, grief, anger or death. Only pleasure. If a person wants to work in a certain job, then they can do it, and if they don't then they do not have to. I wanted to study the past, and so I studied it – no questions asked. If there is a problem that needs to be fixed in a person's home, they call a canvas any time of night, and it is repaired. There are no wars, because there is no longer a point to fighting. Everyone has everything they could ever want. Religion has been dead for centuries as people stopped dying long ago – there is no conflict in our world. There are no armies, no police, and there is no need for doctors; we cannot get sick, and if a canvas gets ill then they are cheap to replace. Life is perfect.

"In addition, we no longer have to worry about overcrowding because reproduction in humans no longer exists – there is no need for it. Families and such notions are foreign in our society. There are plenty of people, and we do not need anymore. If we begin to run short of canvases then these are easily produced, as we can programme them to breed for us.

"Today, our society is not run or controlled, but rather it just exists. There is no need for major decisions because anything we could ever want, we have. Science and technology are our main focuses today – how can we continue to move forward? Perhaps, Huxley, this is why it is only now that you have been chosen to be woken up. You see, we had the technology many years prior, only I've been informed that there are two major reasons why only now you are with us. The first is that cryogenics research has been forgotten about, and secondly, well, as you can tell, people have been rather busy over the last 1200 years.

"Our government system is also vastly different to what you would remember, as there is no longer any need for political parties or legislation or judiciary systems. We live in a society where autonomy is promoted; people live life to enjoy the pleasures on offer. They can do what they want, when they want, without fear and danger or death to get in their way. Though there are no families, there is no loneliness as people today are more social than they have ever been before. Life is comfortable, life is free – life is anything you could ever want it to be.

"We live in a perfect world."

Huxley blinked. He was alive. He had survived.

* * *

PART THREE: NEW COMPREHENSIONS

"Just as no one can be forced into belief, no one can be forced into unbelief."

Sigmund Freud

.

During Huxley's world it had been known as Peddocks Island, situated around a mile from the coast of what was formerly Boston – as Elizabeth had told him. In that time it served as a tourist attraction and nature reserve where people could come and explore the military base and feign interest in the history of those who had lived before them. Over the years though, the island had been transformed and no longer bore any resemblance to its former life. Much of the trees and woodland had been removed to make room for the purpose-built scientific and research centre that took up most of the eastern part, and the former buildings had long since been demolished due to structural issues. The western side of the island now housed the entrance to the motorway tunnel which ran to the mainland under the sea – Elizabeth had said there had not been a boat docked on Peddocks for a great many number of years.

Apparently it wasn't as much the fact that boats were outdated, but more the fact that the waters around the island had become increasingly aggressive over the years. Regular earthquakes along the coast resulted in rough seas and even the most skilled person would have had trouble trying to dock on the island. During the summer months it would be difficult, but during winter it would be impossible; it was winter now, and the island seemed to be in perpetual overcast followed by an ever-lingering possibility of a storm to end all storms.

As Huxley slept the waves of the island were lashing at the cliff face not far from him. Though he could not see the ocean from his bedroom, nor could he hear it, upon opening his window earlier in the day he assumed he was close from the smell of the salt. It was too dark to tell, but above in the sky snow clouds were beginning to drift together in a cluster, ready and waiting at a moment's notice to begin covering the island in their soft white contents. The sturdy wind paid no attention to the clouds, and instead concentrated on keeping the seas strong and harsh against the rocks they beat continuously. The night was going to be cold and loud and cruel... yet Huxley slept on peacefully unaware for the time being.

The door handle turned softly and slowly so as to make the _click_ sound as quiet as possible. It was pushed with ease and luckily for the person entering all remained silent even as it was closed behind them. The man placed his large bag at the foot of Huxley's bed and positioned himself next to the bedside stand. Placing his left hand over Huxley's mouth and his right arm over his chest so as to keep him still, Huxley immediately woke with a fright to this midnight visitor. At first he struggled violently while his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness... then he stopped. He knew this man. He knew his large face and his footballer hands; this man was no enemy... it was Max.

"Huxley mate," Max whispered as though he was terrified of what he was doing. "Mate I need you to stay quiet alright. I'll explain everything; just keep your voice down ok?"

Huxley nodded, his eyes wide and full of questions he needed answers to immediately. "Max," he said softly as his mouth was granted freedom. "What the fuck are you doing here? What the hell is going on?"

"I'm here to rescue you of course!"

"Rescue me? From what? You should be dead!"

"Dead? Hux, what have you been told? Where do you think you are?"

"Max this is the year 3215. This is the future..."

"Oh shit, buddy no. This is all a test – this whole thing is just a fucking test. I told you didn't I? I said if you agreed to be a part of this experiment the rest of your life would be one long scientific test didn't I? Huxley, you've been in an induced coma for the last few months. You were never frozen."

"What?" Huxley sat up in his bed immediately with terror in his eyes. "What the hell do you mean?"

"It was the company. I found out not long after you went under. I have colleagues who have colleagues, they told me. It was the company Huxley. The court wanted tests on how people would react psychologically with waking up to a world different to ours – whether they would cope or break down or freak the fuck out or whatever. This is all just one big psychological experiment mate. The company hid you here on this island – the courts think you are in Phoenix but you are actually just off the Boston coastline."

"What. No. It's impossible – this is a dream... it has to be a dream. What the hell is happening...?"

Max grabbed Huxley and gently shook him to try and make him concentrate. "Huxley, look at this." Max went to his bag at the foot of the bed and pulled out a newspaper from within. "Huxley look, this is a paper from before you went under. Remember the one where you wrote the article. Look there is your name!" Max shoved the paper into Huxley's face. "If this is the future there is no way something as fragile as newsprint would have survived 1200 years. I don't know how else to prove to you this is all a hoax without getting you off this fucking island and away from here. Then you'll see!"

"But Max..."

"I know buddy, I know. But come on we have to go now. There is a storm coming, and it was hard enough trying to get the boat here safely. We need to go now!"

"Mother-fuckers!" Huxley whispered rather loudly as he sprang out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown.

"No Hux, get those clothes off. I brought some of yours with me here." Max pulled out a set of Huxley's clothes from his bag. "I figured if these guys are willing to hide you away here and feed you this bullshit then there is no telling what they would do. Who knows – they may have trackers in the clothes they gave you."

"I can't fucking believe this," Huxley spoke as his began to change. When he was done he turned to see Max holding out a small black piece of metal in his outstretched hand.

"Here, take this just in case." It was a gun.

"Jesus Max!"

"Take it! Huxley from what I have found out this company is willing to do anything to get the results it wants. There is dirt Hux, lots of dirt. These are not people who take no for an answer."

"I don't even know how to use one of those!"

"It's easy, I made sure of that. Just point and pull, alright? And try not to keep your finger on the trigger when you're walking in case you slip."

Huxley reluctantly took his friend's weapon as Max took out his own. "Shoes?" Huxley asked?

"What? Oh, fuck me! Shoes – I forgot completely about bringing you some shoes. Shit!"

"Its fine, I'll go without."

"Ok, but just watch yourself when we get outside. I'd say by the time we get to the boat your feet will be destroyed but nothing we can't fix up later. Ok, easy does it – try to stay quiet and follow me."

Max strapped on his bag and made for the door. As he opened it softly the same way he had when he entered a few minutes earlier Huxley thought for a moment. _How could this be true? How could they have done this to me?_ His thinking was cut short though, for once through the door his entire concentration was devoted entirely to staying quiet, following Max, and of course trying to hold the gun in such a way that he felt he wouldn't accidentally shoot his friend in the leg.

The corridor was empty and dark except for the small amount of light that came through the windows from the night sky. Max moved surprisingly swiftly and gracefully despite his size – he was in better shape than Huxley had previously thought. As they reached the end of the hall the pair took a series of turns in what seemed like a maze of passages until they came to a stairwell.

"We'll take the stairs over the lift – much quieter," Max whispered as he took a key card form his pocket and swiped the electronic lock to them. "Friends in high places," he remarked as Huxley nodded towards his friend's access capabilities.

Holding onto the railing at the side so as not to slip and miss the steps that were in total darkness, Max and Huxley went down seven floors until they reached ground level. All that lay ahead of them and the exit was the reception area. Max went first.

Bursting out of the stairwell Max rushed with his gun pointed at the single person seated behind the front desk who previously had been calmly reading a magazine in the dim light of the room. The man was shocked and did not make a sound as Max placed one finger over his mouth to signal for his silence. Huxley followed, though chose not to point his gun in any direction other than the floor.

"Turn around, hand behind you back," Max said quietly as he took a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. Giving them to Huxley he kept his gun fixed and instructed his friend to immobilise their new found companion. Once he was bound Max had Huxley hold onto his weapon while he used another set of cuffs to chain the man to the radiator in the corner of the room. Grabbing the keys that were underneath the front desk, Max led Huxley to the front door, which he unlocked and pushed open. Immediately the room was filled with the night air as the two men exited the building into the courtyard ahead.

Huxley followed Max forward trustingly as he was led to one side. And then he stopped. "Max?"

"Huxley, what are you doing? We don't have time..."

"Max, why did we lock that man up?"

"You're joking aren't you?"

"Shouldn't he have been locked up already?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Max, how did you get in the building? If you came the way we just came from, shouldn't that man have been locked up already from when you entered...?"

.

Julia could not get the scene out of her head and was losing much sleep and comfort over it. Twice already she had woken from her nightmares with a racing pulse whilst dripping in sweat... _Where am I_? She thought. Staring out her window, which had become a regular occurrence for her at this point, she began to wonder about the birds and whether they would be alright in the storm that was so obviously on its way. Did they have nests in the trees or had they managed to find a way into the roof space of the buildings around? Maybe they were outside circling, waiting for Julia's presence at the glass to signal for them to come close and be let into her bedroom. The idea did not seem stupid or unrealistic to her.

Wrapping her blanket around her shoulders tightly so that it covered and protected her completely she stood from her bed and gazed out into the night before her. The wind was pelting at the leafless trees which seemed helpless and fragile. There were no birds in sight, although it was quite dark so how she expected to ever spot them she did not know. The only proper light source came from a single-bulbed solitary lamp, far down in the courtyard below her. This weak source did not do much, though it allowed Julia the ability to just make out the empty corridors in the buildings parallel to hers.

"_What do you think, should I have some fun with her?"_

"_Sure why not."_

Julia shuddered as her mind began to wander yet again and so pulled herself tightly into her blanket once more. Then they appeared! Just faintly with the aid of the light Julia made out two figures racing along one of the corridors; a large figure followed by a smaller one – _it's them_, she whispered in fear, _they are coming for me!_ Julia froze and followed the pair as they moved quickly towards her building... and then she ran.

Throwing herself out her door Julia made no effort to try and hide the noise of her feet or the slamming of her door. Sprinting she ran down the hall, occasionally tripping over her own feet in the darkness – yet she carried on, fearful of the two men she had seen from her window. She refused to let them turn her into one of their games.

Though she did not know where it was that she was going, the fact that she was moving quickly and in the opposite direction to her bedroom gave her some comfort, and though she gave no thought to what she would do once she escaped from her prison, Julia continued her quest though this darkened maze. After some time however she managed to find a locked door leading to a flight of stairs. Grabbing a fire extinguisher from one of the walls she smashed the small glass window, reached through and unlocked it from the other side.

Down, down, down she went... she felt like Alice, though this New World was much more terrifying than any Wonderland she could have ever imagined. Perhaps the two men had reached her room by now; perhaps they were right behind her, perhaps... Julia froze as she heard a voice. Peering around the bend in the wall she saw a solo man at his desk talking to someone who she assumed was on some sort of answering phone or wireless device. After a few brief remarks and a nod that he understood the man got up and walked out of a side door. It was then that Julia noticed the exit... right passed the desk, it was so close.

"Fuck it," she said as she took off and sprinted towards it. In less than ten seconds she was out, where she moved left away from the entrance in case the man came back and looked out only to see her. Holding herself against the brick of the building she grabbed her mouth so as not to scream when she saw them.

There were two men, standing next to the wall of the building opposite her on the other side of the courtyard; one large and one small. She could see they were facing towards each other; the smaller one looked as though he was speaking however they were so far away that she could not make out what this conversation was. It was obvious that they would not be able to see her, for she was out of the light and the single lamp near them would not be enough to illuminate her from the distance between.

Slowly, very slowly she edged her way along the wall as quietly as she could – the gravel beneath her feet making this remarkably difficult. Her eyes were fixed on the pair across the way, so fixed in fact that as she continued her sidestep she did not notice the lone figure beside her, who upon contact grabbed her mouth and body tightly.

"Don't move. Don't speak," the voice said.

Julia began to weep silently.

.

"Answer me, Max! What the fuck is going on here?" Huxley raised his gun at his friend as he demanded answers. Turning slowly to face him, Max smiled widely, almost beaming at Huxley... then the courtyard exploded into light.

The darkness disappeared instantly as several large hidden floodlights came on all at once illuminating the pair of men. Huxley raised his free arm to shield his eyes while keeping his gun pointed at Max's chest.

"Well done Huxley, well done." A voice in the distance called out, and as Huxley turned it was clear that it was Alex who now stood on the opposite side of the quad. He began to walk towards the pair, applauding at the same time as he did. "Well done, well played."

"What the hell...?" Huxley did not know whether to keep the gun in his hand pointed at his friend or swap to point it at the approaching figure.

"You can put that old thing down Huxley," Alex called out, "it isn't much good to you after all." Huxley kept the gun pointed at Max though, who was still grinning as before.

"What is going on Max? What is all this?" Max said nothing.

"He's been switched to silent mode Huxley; it's our turn to speak now. Not his?"

"What?" Huxley dropped his arm and turned to face Alex. "What the hell does that mean?"

"This has all just been a test. This is not your friend Max, it's only a replica. When you were placed under all those years ago the company decided to find out who your most trusted friend was, and they followed him. Day and night they tapped his conversations, studied his mannerisms and even got hold of his DNA. A few months ago we were able to turn the data into this," Alex pointed at Max. "A canvas programmed especially to look and act like your friend Max."

"You mean this is the future?"

"Of course Huxley. You see, we had to not only test your memory capabilities, but also whether the reanimation process had damaged your emotional sensors. We wanted to know whether or not you could trust someone from your past, whether you would be willing to run away with them."

"Why?"

"We don't just let anyone into our world; we need to know whether we can trust you. We need to know what you are capable of. And quite frankly I'm impressed. You stopped exactly where we hoped – you questioned your friend right up until the point you froze and raised that primitive device." Alex looked to Huxley's gun that was now at his side and in his hand effortlessly.

"I don't believe this."

"Good, excellent! Continue to question yourself. I love it. Would you like me to prove all of this to you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Would you like me to prove this is the future?"

Huxley looked to the ground, his mind was racing and he felt like he was going to be sick. It was as though the world was spinning around him completely and he was the only one losing balance. Weakly he spoke up. "Please."

"May I have that gun then?"

"What? No."

"Oh, come now. Really what are you going to do with it? Do you want to shoot me? Go on; shoot me – would that prove it to you?" Alex turned around and began to walk ten feet where he turned smiling. "Shoot, go on."

"No," Huxley shouted. As he did snow began to fall from the sky lightly.

"Shoot me! Shoot me now!"

"No. I won't." Huxley dropped his gun to the ground.

"Oh for fuck sake," Alex cried out. Reaching into his coat he pulled out a pistol almost exactly the same as the one Huxley had just dropped. He raised it and shot until the magazine was empty.

Grabbing himself all over Huxley could find no trace of any damage yet when he looked around he discovered where in fact the bullets had gone. Lying on the ground, Max was bleeding out heavily all over. Falling to his knees, Huxley grabbed Max's head which was already lifeless by the time he reached it.

"Strange isn't it?" Alex said, walking towards him. "Canvases. Disgusting how they die; so messy. So ancient."

"You fucker!" Huxley shouted, "you killed him."

"Did I? Huxley he died many years ago, over a millennium in fact. This is not your friend, this is the future. I must say the emotional attachment to this canvas is not what I was expecting at all." Alex bent down and picked up Huxley's gun. "Here, take this," he said, forcefully placing it into Huxley's grip. "Now, I'm going to take ten steps that way, and when I turn around, shoot me." Alex began to walk.

"I won't do it."

"One. Two. Three..."

"No. I won't do it!" Huxley stood over the corpse; the blood was staining the snow which was now much heavier and had already placed a thin blanket on the grass around.

"Six. Seven. Eight..."

"NO."

"Nine..."

Huxley raised the gun, aimed and fired. He shot seven times in Alex's direction.

"Ten." Alex turned. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Huxley looked from the gun, and then to Alex who was still standing perfectly naturally. "Blanks?" He asked.

"Shoot the window there and find out."

Huxley shot to his left and the glass shattered.

"I don't understand? I missed?"

"Huxley. These emotions of yours need to be placed under control if you wish to be a part of our New World. We can't simply have you running around trying to harm people as you please now can we?"

"But... you said to..."

"Do you know what is interesting though, is that you couldn't even recognise whether it was one of your own kind or not." Alex looked at the bloody corpse that was slowly getting buried by snow. "You humans... so fascinating."

"He wasn't a canvas. He was my friend!"

"No Huxley, he was only made to look like your friend, and act like your friend. He was not your friend. He never was. All he was, was simply another canvas for another cause. Plenty more where he came from."

"No... you can't do that. You can't just do that to people."

"But he wasn't a person, he was a canvas." Confusion came over Alex's face as though he could not understand Huxley's reasoning. "Such a shame, Elizabeth had high hopes for you, but it seems you were not what we expected."

"What are you talking about?" Huxley looked beyond Alex into the distance; perhaps he could make a run for it? Where he would go, it didn't matter – away from this madness.

Alex saw the movement in his companion's eyes. "A stupid idea, Huxley. You would get lost almost instantly."

"What do you want from me?"

"How about we play a little game? Another test?"

"No more tests, please just let me go."

"Let you go?" Alex laughed hard, "go where? Where would you go?"

Huxley's face dropped as though he had been drained of the will to live. The snow was still falling.

"I promise, last test. For now." He turned and spoke calmly. "Bring her out, Elizabeth."

From out of the shadows Huxley watched as the familiar Elizabeth came towards Alex dragging something which was struggling quite ferociously behind her. As she came closer Huxley saw she was dragging a woman by her hair who was gagged and in obvious pain. It was Julia.

"What is this?" Huxley asked, stepping backwards until he came against the wall of the building. When Elizabeth reached Alex she pulled down her prisoner, forcing her to kneel beside them both in the snow.

"This here, Huxley," Alex began, "is a canvas we named 'Julia'."

Julia screamed underneath her gag but was immediately restrained by Elizabeth easily.

"What we have done is programmed her to think she was one of the test patients from your time in 2012. Effectively she thinks she has only just been reanimated into our New World, like you. We gave her memories, and placed her in positions that would test her reactions as an outsider. However at the end of the day the data we gathered isn't quite as reliable as the data we are able to get from you Huxley. You see, at the end of the day, Julia is still only a construct of our World, who thinks she is from yours. Whereas you are a construct of your World, who knows he is from that World. Your reactions are real, because you are real, and she is not, despite her appearances."

Huxley looked confused. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"Because, I want to see empathy at work," Alex answered. "I want to see real genuine human empathy. Don't you pity this canvas? You call her human, but deep down you know she isn't."

Julia thrashed.

"Isn't there some part of you that wants to put this thing out of its misery? She isn't like you, Huxley."

"I don't understand?"

"Alright, let me be blunt. Huxley, I am going to make you a deal. Either you kill her, or I am going to kill you." As he spoke, Elizabeth reached into her coat where she produced her own gun and held it at Huxley, while keeping one arm firmly on Julia.

"What? Why do you keep trying to have me kill?"

"Huxley, haven't you been listening? It isn't about the kill, it is about the emotions and the information we can collect form you. As a real human untainted by our society you offer valuable insights we can no longer properly possess. I want to see you shoot someone to save yourself. Someone who looks like they are human, acts like they are human, and thinks they are human... but is nothing but a filthy canvas. Of course, there is one catch to our little experiment."

"What is that?" Huxley's grip on his gun tightened, and despite the fact that one was pointed at him now he remained defiant and kept it steadily at his side.

"You have one minute to kill this canvas, or I kill you... The catch is that you have no idea whether I have told you the truth just now or not..." With that Elizabeth took the gag out of her mouth and let Julia out of her grip.

Immediately Julia tried to stand and run, but Alex shoved her back down, telling her to stay where she was. Crying, she turned to Huxley; "Please! Please don't kill me, don't listen to what they say. I am like you, I'm not a canvas, I promise. I had family, I had a sister in Colorado Springs called Kori, and..."

"Time is ticking Huxley," Alex said with a smile.

"NO!" Julia screamed out. "Don't you fucking do what they say, do you hear? I'm a fucking human being, just like you. Don't buy into this sick fucking mind game these people have going!"

During this outburst Huxley had remained against his wall, partly because he felt as though it was the only thing holding him up at that point in time. She seemed to be real, he thought, but was she? Was she like the 'New Max' which was still bleeding out metres away? Was she from his World?

"I saw them rape a canvas; I saw it and I haven't slept since. Two of their people made her do what they asked, and she did it! I'm not like that. Please don't kill me."

Huxley raised his gun at her. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to die."

"I'm not a canvas! I'm not a canvas! I'm not..." Julia broke down in tears and fell to her side in the snow.

"Good Huxley," Alex said. "Now finish her, or Elizabeth here will finish you."

"Please just tell me." Huxley's arm began to shake.

"What?"

"Is she like me or not. I need to know?"

"Does it make a difference?" Alex asked inquisitively.

"Please tell me... I just want this nightmare to end."

Elizabeth began to laugh, "Oh just put him out of his misery already Alex. I don't think I can control myself any longer."

Alex smiled. "Alright, fine. No, she is not like you. She is one of ours. She is a canvas. Now. KILL HER!"

Julia looked up in horror: "No! I'm n..." A single shot echoed through the courtyard and with it complete silence followed, save for the sound of the 'thud' as Huxley fell to his knees silently crying. Julia lay sprawled across the snowy grass with a hole through her chest, while Alex and Elizabeth stood over her with pleasure in their eyes.

After a minute or so had passed Alex turned to Elizabeth. "Go and see if he is alright would you?" nodding to Huxley who was still hurled on the ground.

"Hold this stupid thing then, would you?" Elizabeth passed her gun to Alex and walked towards Huxley. Alex placed the metal into his pocket and stared down at Julia. Kneeling he inspected the wound, smiled and began to caress the snow out of her hair.

"Strange," he said, "how something, something so disgusting can also be something quite beautiful at the same time. I mean, there is no doubt that this filth is repulsive, but at the same time, the fact we have created it to be so... natural, is quite stunning. Don't you agree Elizabeth?"

There was no answer.

"Elizabet..." Alex stopped mid sentence as he looked up and saw what was going on. Standing, he placed both hands at his hips. "Now what would you go and bother with something like that for?" he asked.

Huxley held onto her tightly with one arm across her shoulders while his other free arm held the gun to the side of her head. She did not struggle. He did not speak. Alex did not move. As if on cue, the wind abruptly took full strength, blasting snow in all directions while the whine of its presence against the broken window became louder. In the distance the waves of the ocean could now be heard, beating like drums across the cliffs of the island that was once named Peddocks, while the three figures in the courtyard stood as chess pieces waiting to move, seemingly unaffected by the fury of nature which had just taken force.

* * *

PART FOUR: NEW CONTROL

"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change."

Charles Darwin

.

"You hate him, both of them. Don't you?" Elizabeth spoke to Alex as the two walked down the corridor towards the room Huxley had been placed in. It was time for Elizabeth and Huxley's 'talk'.

"I don't know if hate is the right word, perhaps dislike is a better choice." Alex replied.

"Explain it to me... as though I was one of them," Elizabeth asked as she stopped so that the two of them could properly talk."

"Alright then," Alex smiled as he contemplated the notion of talking to Elizabeth as though she were a patient of his. "The thing I dislike about humans is the lack of control; the concept that everyone around has the free will and autonomy to do whatever they like, whenever they like. It's a terrifying thought. Don't you agree? Humans are irrational creatures driven by their emotions and their fears rather than by reason. There is no predictability, no reliability... no safety. Humans kill and hurt each other, often for no valid reason at all. What kind of world is that?"

"And now?" She asked.

"Things are different now that society has brought the problems of humanity under control. There are no more humans, at least in their sense of the word. There are those like us, and there are the canvases. That is all. The canvases, though human, have been stripped bare of all human qualities so that they will do what they are told, when they are told to do it. They do not think for themselves, nor do they act on their emotions – they have none to act on. Control of the chaos is what we have achieved."

"And what does that make us?"

"Ourselves? You be the judge. Perfection has been created and there is no reason to tamper with perfection. Today we share the most important part of our ancestors; the mind. The body has been thrown aside, and now that we are free of our bodies our minds have brought us to the world before you. This is everything anyone could have ever imagined and more. The human body, all its weaknesses and defaults... life without the human body is real life; don't you see? You cannot truly live until your mind has been set free; free to experience the real world – the world that the body has been holding back for thousands of years.

"Humanity has changed... humanity is no more. Their days are over, and ours have only just begun. And that, of course, leads us to where we are now. There are no more humans; the risks associated are simply far too large. To bring an uncanvassed human into our society would be our undoing – it would destroy everything we have worked so hard to achieve. Why do they think they are anything special? They're not. They are not special, and we are not stupid. Come now, they didn't really think we would let actual uncontrolled humans near us did they?"

Elizabeth smiled and gave her companion a passionate kiss. When it was over she gazed into his eyes. "Too bad they'll never experience anything real again."

.

There was snow all through his hair, but Huxley refused to let Elizabeth out of his grasp to brush it away. He did not know what he was going to do; he had no plan. Alex had not moved from his position at all while he spoke, and Elizabeth had not struggled while in Huxley's grasp.

"Huxley," Alex called out. "Do you remember the technology you had back in your day called wire-less? We with our advancements too have similar technology, though it is much more advanced than anything you could possibly comprehend."

"Why should I care?" Huxley replied.

"How else would you know about the conversation I've been having with Elizabeth for the last minute? How else would you truly appreciate the fact that I can do this...?" Darkness occurred instantly. Every light within the surrounding buildings went out, as did the single lamp in the courtyard. "We have the power and control to do more than you know, Huxley." Alex called out from the darkness. Suddenly the lights came back on. "We are in complete control of the world around us now."

Elizabeth spoke; "do you see?" Alex released her instantly as the voice that escaped from her mouth was not her own but Alex's. Taking two calm steps forward in the snow she turned and spoke again, though her original voice did not return. "Now that we are the way we are, Huxley, we are interlinked and more connected than ever before. Elizabeth told you that we were more social today than in your time. Do you see now?"

"Do you understand why your kind has become extinct yet?" Elizabeth spoke through Alex in the distance. "Now do you understand just how little control you really have around us?"

Huxley froze, not because of the storm that was continuing around him, but because at that point in time in the distance he saw something before his eyes that should not have been occurring; Julia was beginning to get up. Slowly her arms lifted her upper half out of the snow while her legs bent forward at the knees. Once she was standing she walked over and stood beside Alex motionless; there was no life in her eyes and no expression in her face.

"Just like Max," Huxley whispered quietly.

"Not exactly," Alex remarked. "The one you keep referring to as 'Max' over there was a canvas. Julia here however is the real deal Huxley; when we reanimated her she was transferred over immediately with a few minor adjustments for our protection."

"You made her one of you?" Huxley asked terrified and shaking.

"Correct, like us but completely controllable. She never even knew what she was – not for a moment – we programmed her that way, you see? She actually thought she was still human and in control when she woke up. We made her watch what she thought was a canvas being raped by two of our technicians, and she actually thought it was real! What she didn't realise is that the three she saw were all canvases themselves; all programmed to do exactly what we wanted them to do."

"But why? Why are you treating us as though it's some game?"

"You haven't listened or thought about anything, have you? I told you, you are not special and we are not stupid. An uncontrolled human is dangerous – we had to have control over you both at all times, and there is simply no other way that we can achieve that without doing what we did. You can't really have expected us to let a disgusting human just wander freely do you?"

Huxley's heart sank. "What do you mean, 'you both'?"

Alex roared with laughter and Elizabeth began to giggle – only Julia remained expressionless. For a brief moment though, everything became incredibly quiet as Alex answered Huxley's question, "What makes you think you are any different?"

"No!" Huxley screamed out. "It's impossible – I'm not like you, I'm not. I can't be, I would know – I would."

"Would you?" Elizabeth asked. "What about your feet? Would they know?"

"What?" Huxley looked down at his feel and realised what she meant.

"Ordinarily," Alex began, "you wouldn't have lasted a quarter of the time you've already spent out here in this storm without shoes. Why are your feet not frozen Huxley? They've been in the snow long enough?"

"No. It's impossible..."

"Before when you shot at me; aren't you curious why none of your bullets made contact at all? Every shot missed, Huxley, because you were programmed to miss."

"Oh my god..." Huxley's mind began to race and wander; he became dizzy and felt as though he was going to be sick.

"Huxley!" Alex called out.

Huxley looked to face him and waited for him to speak; but he didn't. Instead he watched as Alex's mouth remained still, and listened as Alex's voice reigned inside of him clearly: "you are not in control of your own body anymore; we are."

As soon as the voice had stopped speaking in his head, Huxley dropped to his knees in the snow by his own control as he could not stand and listen any longer. "Why?" he asked.

"Why? How else would we learn?"

"Learn what? What can you possibly learn from these games you play?"

"These are not games, Huxley. It's a test. We need to learn what to do if a canvas ever broke free, or began to think. You are the most human thing alive, you and Julia here, and by putting you through these tests over the last few years we've been able to learn so much about the human condition."

"What are you talking about years? We've only been awake a few months?"

"How do you know that?" Elizabeth asked with glee. "Still trusting everything you've been told, are you?"

Huxley jumped as Alex's voice came within him again; "I know what you are thinking. It won't work. There is nowhere to run; we won't let you."

"How long?" Huxley asked. "How long have you been playing with us?"

Alex and Elizabeth looked to each other and smiled. "How long have we been working together Lil?" Alex asked her.

"About seven years, three months I'd day. How time flies when you having fun, doesn't it?"

"That sounds about right," Alex began. "Seven years you and Julia here have been examined. Each time, a different play. Each time, new knowledge and information. You both are truly valuable you know. I can't possibly begin to explain the things we have learnt."

"But. How?" Huxley could not understand this madness any longer. It couldn't be true; he would know if it was – there was simply no way it was so.

"How? The two of us have very different concepts of memory, Huxley. Yours is just... played with from time to time. Over the years we know all the moves, all the different questions. And over the years we've been playing differently around each move, giving different answers. Sometimes you play Julia's role here, and sometimes you play the one you are in now. Fascinating stuff – it really is."

"You can read our minds?"

"Haha – no, we haven't been able to quite reach that level yet, but give us time. It isn't about mind reading – we just know you so well, that's all."

Huxley stood – the gun was in his hand. "So how do you know I won't shoot now?"

"Like I said before, you're programmed to miss if you try shoot us?"

"I wasn't talking about shooting either of you." Huxley fired just as Alex realised what he was about to do. Emptying what was left in his chamber into Julia's head and chest he dropped the gun and ran into the darkness, leaving Alex and Elizabeth to examine their damaged hardware. Though she could take one bullet, Huxley thought, it was sure to be a different story if she took several.

Running, running, running endless running. If what Alex said was true, then Huxley did his best to ignore the pain his feet were in and continued to tell himself it wasn't real. It was dark, but the snow clouds were reflecting off of the ocean giving his surroundings a strange reddish glow as he darted through the forest. Without any idea where he was going, aside from the opposite direction that he had come, Huxley ran as fast as he could.

"There is no point Huxley. There is nowhere to run." Alex's voice said through Huxley's head as though he was directly beside him in that forest, yet Huxley ignored it and continue to run on.

Elizabeth too then decided to join in; "where are you going Huxley?"

"Fuck off!" he screamed aloud, throwing a branch out of his way and continuing on what he thought was a slope downwards. As the ocean became louder, Huxley slowed down to see the cliff face he reached - he had a plan; it was drastic, but a plan nonetheless. Peering over the edge though, he saw the jagged rocks below and felt the sharp cold wind push him back towards the safety of the solid ground. If the rocks didn't kill him, the drop would.

"Can I die?" Huxley asked himself.

"No." Alex replied. "Not really."

Turning Huxley jumped. "How? How did you..."

"Please Huxley. I'm faster, stronger, and know every move you could possibly make – we've played them all. Although I'll admit this has gone a little differently than the last times. Shooting Julia certainly made things interesting; nothing we can't fix though."

Huxley jumped up and made a run for Alex until suddenly he found his left leg give way completely, taking him immediately down.

"I told you Huxley – you are not in control anymore!" Alex shouted at him angrily – the first sign of anger Huxley had heard in his voice yet; perhaps Julia was more badly damaged than Alex was letting on.

"Oh fuck off!" Huxley shouted, using his right leg to push himself away from Alex and back towards to cliff face. As he reached it Huxley stopped, wondering what might happen if he kept going.

"Where are you going to go then? Hmmm?" Alex asked him. "This is it. This is the end of the line. Now pick yourself up, and follow me – time to get back."

"No!"

"If you refuse I'll simply shut you off, Huxley. Choice is yours."

Looking below him at the rocks and dark black sea, Huxley looked back to Alex and sighed. As he began to pull himself up Alex laughed. "See. Isn't it better to just do what you're told?"

Huxley smiled back. "I wouldn't know." And with that he launched himself backwards as hard as he could to ensure there was no way that Alex could possibly stop him. Over the cliff face he went head first. The wind was all around while he outran the flakes of snow to the ocean below. Looking up from where he fell, Huxley saw Alex peering over screaming something indistinguishable in the storm, where finally as the rocks could almost be felt below, Huxley closed his eyes and smiled as the darkness and ocean of Peddocks Island swallowed him completely.

* * *

PART FIVE: NEW AWAKENINGS

"Consistency is contrary to nature, contrary to life. The only completely consistent people are the dead."

Aldous Huxley

.

"Good morning. My name is Alex; it's very nice to meet you. Please don't try to speak, the muscles in your throat are still adapting to not being used for a good while, but don't worry, we've been keeping an eye on you and the stimulants should begin working in the next few days. Please, would you mind just giving me a solid blink if you understand me so far?"

Huxley blinked. Was he alive? Had he survived?


End file.
